


As Luck Would Have It

by Justalittlelouislove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Miscommunication, a cat named Murray, just a bit of banter really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 03:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17758736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justalittlelouislove/pseuds/Justalittlelouislove
Summary: We've all experienced the trials and tribulations of technology. Louis is sabotaged by a bit of unhelpful autocorrect, but maybe luck is on his side after all.





	As Luck Would Have It

 

Like most things, it’s all Niall's fault. 

“So you think I should do it,” Louis confirms, turning to watch Niall’s face closely, “You think I should text him?” 

Niall rolls his eyes, “What gave it away, me saying ‘you should text him’ 400 times now, or my look of despair?” 

“You’re a dick.” 

“Better a dick than a coward,” Niall responds, ducking immediately out of the way of a flying pillow, and narrowly missing getting another to the back of his head. 

“I’m not a fucking coward,” Louis grouses, leaning back against the cushions with a narrowed look, “I’m just..cautious.” 

“Just fucking text him, Lou. Jesus.” Niall picks up the remote again, flicking through the channels, “He’s just a barista, not an atomic bomb.”

Louis looks back down at his phone. Niall’s probably right, what’s the worst that could happen? Harry had given him his number, he wouldn’t have done that if he didn't want to hear from him. Right?

Right. 

And he’s not a coward, not really, but he is a bit nervous. So before he can back out, he takes a deep breath and types out a text quickly, hitting send before even reading it. 

It goes through, says delivered in the little bubble underneath, and Louis sighs, relieved. That is, until he reads it back to himself.

“Oh my God,” he whispers, panic taking hold, “Oh my God, Oh my God, oh my God.” 

Niall glances over, “Sounding fairly religious for someone who's never been inside a church.” 

“What have I done?” Louis screeches, startling Niall so soundly he nearly upends his bowl of popcorn. “What did you make me do?” 

“Fuck if I know,” Niall yells back, looking at him like he’s lost his mind, “I wish you’d tell me though, so I can figure out if I need to arm myself.”

Louis drags a hand over his face, and then waves the phone, “I texted him.” 

Niall stares at him, nonplussed, “And?” 

“And? This is what’s ‘and’,” Louis shouts. He reads from the screen, “‘Hey Harry, it’s me Louis from the other day. I know it’s a weird time of day to be asking, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in going out for tea, and maybe anal’.” 

Niall blinks. “Maybe a little more forward than-” 

“Snack,” Louis growls, “I typed a snack and this stupid fucking thing fucked it up.”

It’s quiet for several seconds. Finally, Niall shrugs, “Potato, Potahto.”

Louis turns the bowl over on his head.

* * *

 

It’s not like Harry waits by the phone after he gives Louis his number and his morning cuppa. Because he doesn’t.

That’s not even a thing anymore really, waiting by the phone. His phone’s in the pocket of his apron all shift, so he’s not waiting. Just..just checking every once in a while. Just glancing at the screen every so often. Once every couple of minutes. Nothing too crazy.

When his phone does finally ding, well not finally because, again, it’s not like Harry’s been waiting for it or anything, he’s doing prep work behind the counter.

He hastily shoves the jars of cinnamon back up onto the shelf and dusts off his hands on his apron. He yanks his phone out and puts in the code, cursing when he gets it wrong twice.

From over by the register, Liam snorts. “Better hurry up and read it mate, it could be one of those self-destructing messages that blow up your phone if you don’t read it within 10 seconds.”

Harry flips him the bird, not bothering to glance up. He gets the screen up and reads the text, smiling broadly at the first line, and then freezing.

“Uh.”

“Uh, what?” Liam asks, walking over and throwing a dish towel over his shoulder, “Is it Louis?”

“Yeah,” Harry confirms, re-reading the text. He can feel his neck start to heat, he’ll be bright red in a matter of seconds. “Um. How well do you know him, Li?”

Liam shrugs, “Met him when I was about 18, I think. We hang out pretty regularly. Why?”

“He..uh. He texted me,” Harry says, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “Asked if I wanted to get some tea.”

Liam nods slowly, “Okay?”

Harry’s got to be eight shades of red by now, he can feel it. “And anal.”

“What?!” Liam’s eyes make a fairly good attempt to pop right out of his head, “He said what?!”

Harry flaps his hands around, “Look!”

Liam snatches the phone away with a suspicious look at Harry like he jokes about refreshments and assholes on a daily basis, and this is some kind of trick. His eyes fly across the screen and he blinks twice, shaking his head.

“There’s got to be some kind of mistake. He wouldn’t say something like this.”

Harry shrugs, “Maybe- maybe I’ll just answer him about the tea?”

Liam hands him back the phone and nods, “Yeah, I’m not really well versed on this kind of situation, so your guess is as good as mine.”

Harry texts back, a quick response about how he’s glad to hear from him, and he’d love some tea, but the text doesn’t go through.

Liam huffs, honestly a little more irritated by the situation than he has any right to be, if Harry’s honest. It’s not like he’s the one in the thick of..whatever it is that’s going on here.

“I’m gonna call him,” Liam announces, pulling out his phone and scrolling. He’s got the phone to his ear before Harry can even protest. But then he’s pulling it away just as quickly, “It’s off. He’s turned his phone off.”

“Oh,” Harry says, a little crestfallen. Louis is fit and funny. Even if he is a little, um, forward. “Well I mean I guess I can just wait to see him. It’s not like he’s gonna change coffee houses.”

Liam looks off into the distance, contemplative, “You know I went to Louis’ once to help him move some furniture.”

“Yes Liam I know,” Harry says, turning back to the cinnamon shakers, “You big strong man, lift big things and put them down.”

Liam smacks him on the ass with the dish towel. “What I’m trying to say is I know where he lives.”

Harry glances at him, “Okay, what are you trying to say?”

“Well, if Louis wants tea,” Liam says slowly, “Maybe you should bring it to him.”

Harry pauses and turns slowly to face Liam, “You think?”

Liam shrugs, “Why not?”

Harry leaps forward and plants a smacking kiss to Liam’s forehead. “Liam, you beautiful beefcake, you are a genius!”

Together, they prepare two cups of tea to go, and Harry heads out with a wish of luck from Liam, and a stomach full of butterflies.

* * *

 

Louis does the only logical thing given the circumstances; turns off his phone. Niall’s left for his shift at the bookstore, so Louis’ only company is his embarrassment, and the stray cat that insists on coming in and out through kitchen window, but refuses to actually move in. 

He double, triple checks, that his treacherous phone is, in fact, off, and then tosses it onto the couch and walks into the kitchen. 

“Hey Murray,” he greets sullenly, scratching the old tabby cat behind its ears. He purrs loudly and Louis sighs, “Well, at least one of us is happy.” 

Murray gives no response save for jumping down onto the counter, and then the floor, winding himself around Louis’ ankles. Louis stares down at him for a minute, lost in the replay of him fucking up his whole life, that's playing in his head. The embarrassment had nearly killed him. It’s pity that it hadn't really because now he's got to find a new coffee shop on top of it. 

Woe is  _ fucking _ him. 

Sighing again, he carefully navigates his way through the little kitchen without stepping on Murray and flips on the kettle. As the water bubbles, Louis drops a tea bag in a mug, tapping his fingers on the counter agitatedly. It’s not just the embarrassment of the text, which is no small amount by any means, but he's also pretty fucking disappointed. Harry is gorgeous, all light green eyes and deep dimples. And he’s fit, Louis whines a little to himself, thinking about Harry’s shoulders stretching the t-shirts he wears at the coffee shop, and how tiny his waste looks tied up in his apron strings.  _ God, _ he's so fit. 

The tab at the bottom of the kettle clicks up and drags Louis away from his coffee shop boy reverie. He’s pouring water into the mug when a knock sounds at the door and startles him. 

“Shit,” Louis hisses, shaking a couple drops of hot water off his hand. There's another bang at the door and Louis glances over, “Coming! Jesus, I’m coming!” 

He goes to the front door quickly, sucking at the burn. He doesn’t bother looking before swinging it open. He drops his hand and his jaw at the sight of Harry in his hallway. 

“Uh- Hi?” Harry smiles at him brightly and shifts his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet. The smile dims a little when Louis does nothing but stare between him and the to-go cups. Harry glances down, and seems to remember he’s holding them, “Oh! I- uh, I brought you tea.” 

“You brought tea,” Louis says faintly, blinking at the logo on the cardboard. 

Harry’s smile drops altogether. He takes a step back, and his shoulders hunch in like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. He’s literally deflating. “Well, you texted asking about tea and I- well, well Liam thought it might be a good idea to swing by with some. It’s probably rude though, right? It’s rude to just show up unannounced,” Harry drags a hand through his hair and tugs a little, “Wow. Um. You know, I’m really sorry-”

“Do you want to come in?” Louis blurts out, gulping down the panic that started rising rapidly at the sight of Harry backing away, “With me I mean. In here. Would you like to come in and have tea with me?” 

Harry’s jaw snaps shut. His hand drops from his hair and lands limply at his side. “I- uh. Yeah, yes I really would.” 

Louis nods, licking his lips. Harry’s gorgeous even under the horrible fluorescent hallway bulbs. And no one should look good in front of pea green wallpaper, it’s unfair. 

Harry clears his throat, “So, um. Can I?” 

Louis furrows his brow, “Can you?” 

Harry smiles and nudges his chin towards the door, “Can I come in?” 

Oh.  _ Oh _ .  Louis jumps a little and takes three rapid steps back, “Yes! Sorry.” 

With a hesitant smile, Harry walks in and looks around, “This is a really cute place.” 

Louis closes the door behind him and heads to the kitchen table, smiling at Harry over his shoulder, “Thanks. I share with my friend Niall. He comes into the shop with me some afternoons. Blonde, Irish?” 

Harry sits across from Louis at the table and nods, “Mmhmm I remember him. Large coffee, black, two scones.” 

Louis smirks, “Impressive.” 

“Not really,” Harry laughs with shrug. He takes the cups out of the holder and places one in front of Louis, “You tend to remember people by orders when-” Murray jumps up onto one of the chairs, meowing loudly, “Oh! You've got a cat.” 

“Not really,” Louis says, taking a sip of his tea. He shrugs at Harry’s confused expression, “He’s a stray, or we think he is at least. He comes and goes as he pleases.” 

“Huh,” Harry tilts his head at Murray and holds his hand out to him, smiling when he rubs his head against it, “So he’s more of a friend.”

Louis looks at Harry, sat at his kitchen table, gently petting his stray cat.. His cat friend. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Harry looks up smiling, and the conversation comes to an awkward pause. Louis picks at the label for something to do with his hands. 

Murray jumps down from the chair and hops out the window. Harry watches him go and then turns back to Louis, “So-”

“Look,” Louis says loudly, cutting him off before he loses his nerve, “About that text, I- I didn’t mean it.” 

Harry sits back quickly, eyes wide. “Oh. Oh- should I go?”

“What?” Louis puts his hand up, halting Harry’s scramble out of his chair. “What, no? Why would I want that? I don’t want you to go.” 

Harry eyes him curiously, “But, the text said you wanted to get tea. This is..tea.” 

Louis takes a deep breath. “Yeah, but I mean that's not all the text said..” 

Harry’s face turns the brightest shade of red that Louis’ ever seen on a human being, which says a lot since Louis lives with an Irishman with a curry addiction. 

“Oh well,” Harry clears his throat, “Does that mean you just want to be friends? I mean I’m okay with that. More than okay-”

“No,” Louis says slowly, shaking his head, “I would love to have you as a friend, Harry. But, um, no. I texted you for more than friendly reasons.” 

Harry looks more confused than ever, “I'm not sure I understand, Louis.” 

Of course, he doesn’t understand. Louis is barely speaking English. 

Louis sighs, “I meant to ask you for tea and a bite to eat. Autocorrect changed around some of the words.” 

Harry nibbles at his bottom lip and spins his cup around on the table, “So does that mean you don’t like,” he glances up and then down again, “Anal?”

“No,” Louis says quietly, probably the exact same shade of red as Harry, “I very much..like that.”

With a calculating little glint in his eye, Harry tilts his head down and looks up through his lashes, “Well, that’s a pretty lucky coincidence.” 

Louis sits back in his chair with a huff of breath and a smile, “You know, I think I might be the luckiest man in the world.”

* * *

 

Niall gets into the apartment twenty minutes later than he had planned. Louis is nowhere to be found. At least he’s not still moping on the couch.

He grabs a beer and heads to his room, with plans of sleeping for the next 15 hours at the very least. He stops in the hallway with his hand on the door, when a loud bang, and then a groan, sounds from Louis’ room. 

“What the fuck,” Niall murmurs. He strides down the hall and swings open the door, “Hey, Louis are you al-”

A shoe narrowly misses Niall’s head and he slams the door closed. “Sorry,” he shouts through the door. 

Shaking his head, he walks back to his room and plops down on the bed. With a click, he opens the beer and takes a long pull. 

_ You know _ , he thinks with a smile, _ some guys have all the luck. _

  
  



End file.
